


Lost in the dark

by little_flightless_dove



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Brainwashing, Captivity, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Non-Consensual Bondage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, SSHG - Freeform, Slavery, Torture, Whump, dubcon, snamione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_flightless_dove/pseuds/little_flightless_dove
Summary: Hermione is left behind at Malfoy Manor and as a prisoner she is nothing more that a plaything to one of the deatheaters, Antonin Dolohov. Alone, she gets lost in the dark. Will she be able to find the light again?([HG/AD] at first) [SS/HG](My story can also be read on fanfiction net)
Relationships: Antonin Dolohov/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 30
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

Everything hurt. She could barely remember what had happened. The only thing existing right now was the pain. She vaguely remembered running alongside Harry and Ron before they’ve been caught and brought to Malfoy Manor. But the boys were no where to be seen and instead she was alone with the deatheaters. Her body was lying on the floor, twitching from the aftermath of the cruciatus curse. Her ears were ringing, she could still hear the shrieking voice of Bellatrix Lestrange. As if the woman had heard her thoughts, she send Griphook back to the dungeon and turned her attention back to the young witch.

“I think it’s time we had a little conversation.”

Hermiones heart started racing again. She tried to get up and crawl away but it was useless. Her body refused to obey her.

“Just us. Girl to girl.”

She let out a small whimper as Bellatrix sat down on her chest and started caressing her cheek.

“My, my, what a shame it would be to deform that pretty little face of you.”, she whispered.

“So I’ll ask again. Where. Did you. GET MY SWORD?”

Hermiones thoughts were paralyzed with fear.

“Please. I-I didn’t take it.”, she cried out.

“ I think you need help remembering.”, the older witch drew her knife over her captives chest and started laughing maniacally.

“This is fun, don’t you think?”

The young girl could only scream, as the deatheater switched to cutting up her arm. The knife she used, surely had a pain enhancing curse put on it. Tears streamed down her face and she tried to resist but her body was unable to move. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see other deatheaters, watching her and quietly discussing something. She recognized the Malfoy but couldn’t focus on the others.

It felt like hours until Bellatrix let go of her arm. It felt like it was on fire.

“Look at you, it almost seems like you don’t want to play with me!” She pouted and while she stood up, towering over the young girl.

“But it took me so much effort to give you that little gift. Look at it, now you’ll never forget what you are.”

Hermiones head rolled over and slowly her eyes wandered along her arm. At first she couldn’t make out what the symbols on her arm meant but when she realized, it send ice cold shivers down her spine. In huge, ugly letters across her whole forearm was carved the word M U D B L O O D.

Her head was spinning and she couldn’t even feel the tears on her face anymore.

“I’m getting quite bored, you know. Pff, not even a thank you for my generosity. Maybe you want to play with someone else? Antonin, I think she’s just waiting for you!”

Her heels where clicking on the cold marvel floor as she walked across the room, not paying any more attention to the girl.

Suddenly, Hermione felt the binding curse keeping her down being liftet. As she saw a man slowly walking towards her, she tried to crawl away, pressing her arm to her chest.

“Don’t tell me you already want to leave, little girl? It’s just staring to get fun.”

Hermione tried desperately not to show her fear as the man gripped her chin and forced her head into his direction. His eyes were grey as marble, staring deep into her.

“Please”, she whispered, eyes full of tears, her whole body trembling. “Don’t… don’t hurt me. We didn’t take it, I swear.”

Dolohov got closer to her face, so close they almost touched. The hairs on her arms stood up as she felt his breath on her lips. Slowly he started to speak.

“Oh but sweetheart, we didn’t even hurt you yet. It’s just a few scratches.”

“Please.” _Please_

“You’ve been a bad girl though. I don’t think you’re in the position to wish for something, hm?”

His tongue licked over her lips and Hermione held her breath, trying to move her head away. The grip on her jaw tightened painfully and he chuckled.

“I like my girls to struggle. So be a good girl for me won’t you?”

Her brain was unable to process his words fast enough but as he brutally pushed her down onto the floor she started to understand. She started screaming and kicking but it was of no use. He ripped open her pants. The only thing the young witch could think of was trying to hit him. She knew he wanted her to resist but there was no way she could just let him do that. The deatheater caught her arms and held them over her head. With his other hand he started pushing up her shirt, painfully gripping her breasts. Hermione was crying hysterically until suddenly, she felt a sharp pain explode between her legs. All the air was pushed out of her lungs and for a split second, the world stood still. The room was dead silent and all she saw was the dark ceiling with the huge chandelier.

Then Dolohov started moving.

Her screams had turned into small whimpers, every time he trusted into her. She felt his breath on her neck, hot and heavy. She could hear the other deatheater making some remarks but she didn’t understand. There voices seemed muted to her, as if she turned deaf.

“Have you given up already, little one? Come on, that’s no fun at all.”

He started licking her neck.

“Let’s see what the little lady enjoys.”

And suddenly he bit down hard. I tiny scream escaped her. It felt as if he was trying to rip down her flesh. First on the left, then the right, the middle, her shoulder, her breasts. Wherever something was covered by her shirt, he just ripped it away. By the time he stopped, her whole chest was on fire. She tried to push him off, to kick him, to punch him, anything but it didn’t help. With every attempt to free herself, she just aroused him even more.

_Please just make it stop. Anything. Please. Please._

At this point she was crying uncontrollably. As if he had read her thought, he let go of her numb arms and put his hands around her throat. If she wasn’t already panicking, she was now. His eyes were staring at her. Grey as stone. Staring into her soul. She didn’t want to die. Dark spots started appearing in her vision. Then everything went dark. Everything except those eyes. They followed her into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione had regained consciousness a while ago but she did not dare to move. Her eyes were fixed on the word carved into her arm, in a desperate attempt to understand what had happened. She could hear people talking but her mind couldn’t understand what their words meant.

She heard heels clicking in the floor making their way towards her.

“Oh it seems as if the Mudblood is awake. I think it’s time we call the Dark Lord.“

Bellatrix pressed her hand onto her dark mark and at the same moment, the room was illuminated with spells. Hermione flinched and instinctively put her hands over her face before realizing, they weren’t directed at her and recognizing the voices of Harry and Ron. Before she had the chance to make her way over to them, she was grabbed by the female deatheater and held with a knife to her throat. She barely had any strength to hold herself up and her limbs were still twitching from the cruciatus curse.

“Drop. Your. Wands. DROP THEM!“

Bellatrixs scream was followed by the sound of small wooden objects hitting the floor.

“Let her go and we’ll tell you who gave us the sword.“, Harry tried to reason with her. But it was useless. The witch was laughing hysterically.

“You have no Power here, Potter“, she spat out.

“The Dark Lord will be here any…“

The room was silent. Except for an unexpected squeaking sound above them. On the chandelier sat Dobby, opening the screws that held it up. He winked at Bellatrix and suddenly the lamp started falling down. She screamed and Hermione was pushed forward. She saw Ron jumping towards her but before he could reach the her, she felt herself being crushed by the chandelier.

The fire opened again and curses flew through the salon.

“He’s coming!“

“We have to leave!“

“Hermione, Hermione, no!“

She opened her eyes, her arm was still reaching out to her friends. But they couldn’t get to her. The deatheaters had started to close on them and with a sudden _plop_ they apparated.

_They’re gone. They left. They left without me._

But the room wasn’t silent for long. Black smoke flew through the walls and manifested with a hissing noise.

“Who dares disturb me?“, the Dark Lords voice sounded like ice and squeaking chalk and just his presence seemed to make the temperature drop. The deatheaters all fell to their knees.

“We had them, my Lord. We had the boy.“, Bellatrix crawled towards him in submission.

“I had him! I fought them and you let them escape.“, Dolohovs raised his voice.

“Bellatrix. Is that true?“, the voice of Voldemort seemed calm. Too calm.

“Mylord, please. I didn’t..“

Her pleas where disrupted with a cruciatus curse. She screamed manically, twisting on the floor.

Hermione could feel the chandelier being lifted from her and strong arms lifting her up.

“I still have the Mudblood, my Lord.“ Dolohovs touch seemed to burn her skin and her heart felt like it was jumping out of her chest. Bellatrixs screams faded and only her heavy breath could be heard, as the Dark Lord crept closer to Hermione. His face was naturally pale with snakelike slits where his nose should be. But his eyes were the worst. Completely white like snow the stared into her soul. No iris or pupils. Before she could do anything he was deep in her mind. The girl let out a painful whimper. It felt like he was cutting his way through her head as he carelessly searched for any information. Hermione tried her best to close her mind but to no avail. His eyes were locked with hers, leaving her completely paralyzed, unable to do anything at all. He could see, where she, Harry and Ron had been and what they had planned and talked about. It seemed like an eternity until he was satisfied and let go of her. She collapsed in Dolohovs arms, finally being free of those eyes. The deatheaters hold on her, made her feel disgusted but she couldn’t even struggle.

Voldemort gently grabbed her chin, caressing her cheek. Hermione kept her eyes down, trying not to look at him again. Dolohovs touch felt like fire, but the Dark Lords hands were colder than ice.

“Hermione Granger. Your bloodstatus is such a pity. But I am merciful. Bend your knee and I’ll promise you will not be harmed. Help our cause and you will be rewarded greatly.“

She couldn’t believe her ears. Turn on Harry and Ron? Especially after what happened she could never agree to something like that.

_Do whatever you have to do to survive._

She could just pretend she was helping. But if they found out…

_I just want the pain to stop._

Slowly she raised her eyes until she met the Dark Lords. It cost her all her willpower to keep eye contact. His cold, dead eyes stared at her not revealing anything about him.

“Whatever happens”, she started, her voice quiet and broken,”whatever you do to me. No matter how much you hurt me and torture me, I will never turn on Harry for as long as I live. You will never get what you want and you will lose this war.”

The Dark Lords grip on her face tightened to the point, she feared he would break her jaw. His expression grew angry and she could feel the dark magic swirl around him.

“Go ahead and kill me. I am not afraid.” She was afraid, so much she could barely breathe.

Suddenly he let go of her and turned around. The wizard conjured a huge chair in the middle of the room and sat down. Dolohov pushed her down in front of him and she fell, the glass shards of the chandelier cutting deeply into her hands and legs. She let out a small whimper, trying to ignore it.

She could hear Bellatrix chuckle in anticipation. She tried to push herself into a standing position but her body refused to and so she had to kneel.

“So you order me to kill you but I get nothing in return? Isn’t that quite unfair?”

Hermione kept her head up. If she really had to die, she would do so with dignity.

“There is one thing I can assure you”, the Dark Lord continued. “For as long as you are here, you belong to me. You will not die today. You will not die tomorrow. But of course you want to die, I understand that. But it’ll stay that way for a year, or two or maybe fifty. No matter what you do, you’re not allowed to simply die. We can’t give that privilege to the best friend of Harry Potter, to am mere Mudblood.”

The young girl looked at him in horror. She could not exist in a world like this. She couldn’t go through the things she experienced today again. Not even once, let alone multiple years

“I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here, Mudblood”, he said with his icy voice as he pointed his wand at her.

“Crucio.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the next chapter! Thank you for all of those lovely comments, kudos, follows etc! It makes me so happy that you guys enjoy it!  
> Poor Hermione has already gone through a lot and the story haven’t even started. Oh boi, am I exited for the next chapter. (I don’t like writing scenes with a lot of people so next one will be completely 1 on 1)
> 
> If anyone of you is interested in becoming my beta reader I’d be really happy about that! I find that a second correction by someone else can really make a difference.  
> If you’re considering, please send me a message. <3
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Warm hands wandered over her body. Wherever they touched her, the pain eased a little. She was barely conscious, unable to open her eyes. She could hear the rustling of fabric but it seemed so far away. Her body was heavy and tired but every now and then it twitched a little. There was a familiar smell but she couldn’t place it. Like herbs or the forest after a rainfall.

She felt like she was hugged, her body pulled in an upright position but she was to far away to be certain. Something touched her lips and she felt a liquid being poured down. It tasted like warm cinnamon rolls and strawberries. She let out a deep sigh and felt herself slipping away again.

When Hermione woke up again, she felt horrible. In addition to her wounds she also had a terrible migraine. Slowly, she opened her eyes, not sure if she wanted to know what was in front of her but to her surprise she couldn’t see. The room she was in, was pitch black.

“Hello?”, she whispered, scared by her own broken voice. But no answer came.

She sat in silence for a few moments and only allowed herself to think after she was sure there was no one around her. Her memories started flashing inside her mind.

_Crucio_

The voice in her head started to send shivers down her spine. The Dark Lord wasn’t feared for nothing. His curse was so powerful, she thought it would kill her then and there. Never in her life had she even been able to imagine so much pain was possible. It didn’t even reach what she experienced with Dolohov.

_Dolohov_

A wave of memories and emotions crushed over her, taking her breath away.

_He touched me. He hurt me. He.. he.._

She started sobbing. How could he.

_Stop. Stop. STOP. Don’t think._

Hermione was hugging herself, ignoring the pain it caused. She needed to calm down before she had a panic attack. It wouldn’t helped her situation anyway. The deatheaters wanted her to feel like that.

Defeated. Alone. Dirty. Scared. Lost.

She had to show them, she wasn’t a scared little girl. She was a strong woman and she would get through this somehow. She would find a way out. Harry and Ron knew she was still here, they would definitely try to get her out.

_That’s good. Keep breathing._

Maybe if she kept focusing on things outside of her head, it would distract her.

Gently, she let her hand wander over her left arm. She couldn’t see it, but she felt the huge bumps of the word carved into her arms. _Mudblood._ It made her angry. She was so much more than the blood she was born with. Her chest was cut up as well and bruised. Dry blood and dirt had formed a stiff crust on her shirt. Her jeans were ripped and she could almost feel the glass shards of the chandelier still sticking in her legs. But to her surprise they were gone and only small cuts remained. On the inside of her hands as well. She was so sure, she had fallen on the glass but apparently, she had only imagined that. Not surprising after what happened. What she didn’t imagine however, was the pain between her legs. It was as if she had been ripped open and she could still feel the sticky wetness of _him._ She felt disgusted but didn’t want to think about this further so she started to explore her surroundings.

The room she was in was so dark, she could see nothing, not even silhouettes. She felt around the floor with her hands, trying not to put to much weight into her wounds.

What she was sitting on seemed to be a wooden board, padded with a thin layer of fabric. Not very comfortable, but probably the only option she had. Carefully she crawled forward, constantly feeling around with her hands, so she wouldn’t hit anything.

After a while, she had explored the whole room. The only things apart from the stone walls and floor were the wooden board, a metal ring in the middle of the room and a square stone in one corner. However, she could not find an explanation for the last two things. At first she thought, the ring could have been the opening to a trapdoor but the deatheater couldn’t have been that’s stupid. Also, the ring seemed to have been firmly attached to the floor.

And the other thing could maybe be a chair? But Hermione had no idea why. She also couldn’t really focus on finding the answer because there was one thing that bothered her.

Why didn’t the room have a door? How did she get in here? They couldn’t have apparated in, that’s for sure but she also didn’t know of any spell or potion that would make it possible to walk through walls. Maybe there was a concealing spell on it? But why? The door would have been locked anyway. Maybe they just wanted to confuse her?

Not being able to see bothered Hermione. She felt blind and vulnerable.

As a child, she was never afraid of the dark. Her mind was too logical, always aware that monsters didn’t exist and that it was highly unlikely, anyone could get into her home.

 _Home_.

Home felt so far away. Almost like a dream she had, long ago. How she wished, she was with her parents. But they couldn’t remember her anyway. They were far away, not knowing they had a daughter fighting in a war.

She lay down on the board again, reminiscing about her childhood and waiting for something to happen.

When she woke up again, it was still dark. She must have nodded off at some point and her stomach was growling, waiting for food. But eating was the last thing on her mind.

Hermione couldn’t have said how much time had passed. It felt like hours but it could very well have been minutes. And besides thinking, there was nothing she could do to distract herself.

Of course she was glad, not having to face any of the deatheaters but the uncertainty of what would happen, drove her crazy. When she was younger, all she ever wanted was for time to stop, so she could read and think without being bothered. Now she wished for something to do.

As if her wish had been heard, she suddenly heard a lout creaking noise and the room lit up, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut and cover her face with her hands.

“What a pleasant surprise, you’re already on your knees for me.”

Hermione instantly recognized that rough, narcissistic voice. Dolohov.

Quickly she stood up, back to the wall. She tried to open her eyes and face him, but the light made them water up and feel like they were being stung. She hated how helpless and dumb she must seem. The light was dim but after several hours in the dark, it felt like staring right at the sun.

The deatheater just stood there, watching her amused and after a few moments, she managed to keep her eyes open.

“I hope you already got settled in, not everyone gets such a comfortable cell.”

He smiled, as if he had just upgraded her to a five-star suite. It made her feel sick to her stomach. Hermione chose to remain silent and quickly looked around the room. As expected, it was a dark small dungeon cell, not window but a iron door was now visible behind Dolohov. The fabric over her bed, or rather her board, was brown and dirty. She tried not to think of the reason for all those dark stains on it. The iron ring in the middle of the room turned out to be just that and the stone block in the corner to her left had a hole on top of it. She determined that this was supposed to be her toilet. A small glowing orb was levitating above the door, providing light to the room.

“What do you want from me?” Hermione snapped at him, trying not to show her discomfort. She couldn’t stand looking at his face though, so she tried to keep her eyes fixed to the door behind him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, little princess. Did I bother your little beauty nap?” His voice was mocking her, as if he was talking to a little child but then turned harsh again.

“I will teach you not to use that tone with me again. You should know that your place is on your knees before me and you’re not going to speak unless I allow it. Understood?”

Hermione felt like she was sick. How dare he? She was not a slave to him and she would certainly not cower before him like a beaten dog. He had done horrible things to her and still felt like he was in the right. She would not be silent and she would not be beneath him.

“Who do you think you are, ordering me around? Do you really expect me to do anything you say just because you want me to? I am not…”

A sudden slap across her face made her stop and gasp. He was angry. Really angry.

“If you refuse to learn, I’ll have to take different measures.”

With a small flick of his hand, iron chains formed around her wrist, extending to the floor and connecting to the metal ring. Then she was pulled down harshly, whimpering has her hurt body made contact with the cold, hard floor.

She looked up at him, anger in her eyes, satisfaction in his.

“I hate you.”

He just smiled at her.

“Good. Remember this because one day, you’ll crave to be with me. You won’t be able to live without me. You’ll look back to this day and the only person you’re able to hate is yourself.”

Hermione glared at him.

“That’ll never happen. You can not change who I am.”

“And who are you?”

“I am Hermione Granger. Brightest witch of my age, student of Hogwarts, Gryffindor.”

Dolohov chuckled at her words.

“No. Here you’re none of these things. Here you’re just a Mudblood. You are mine. Nothing else.”

“I am certainly not _yours_!”

“But you are. I think you just need some help, adjusting to the truth. Let’s start with those .. “ he pointed at her “..disgusting muggle clothes.”

With a flick of his hand, her clothing had vanished. She couldn’t even cover herself with her hands as they were still shackled down to the floor. She tried to at least put her arms before her chest but she couldn’t find a useful position.

Meanwhile, Dolohov started slowly circling her. Hermione kept head down, eyes fixed on her hands before her. She knew her discomfort and humiliation would show in her face but she didn’t want it to be too obvious.

“You know, I thought a lot about you and our little _involvement_ a while ago. It was such fun for me.”

_Don’t react. He’s trying to make you angry._

“To see you struggle, to slowly dim the fire in your eyes. The way you tried to crawl away. I still see it before me.”

He spoke slowly, now behind her. She felt like a deer, prey to a predator.

_Don’t show any fear._

“The way you screamed for me. It was like music to my ears. I knew that you were supposed to be mine.”

_You’re disgusting. You’re a disgust bastard._

“And the Dark Lord thought so, too. For capturing you, he gave me a gift. You.”

Hermiones blood ran cold. She got goosebumps on her arms and her breath stocked.

“Yes, don’t think that he has forbidden anyone to hurt you because you are friends with Potter.”

He stood in front of her, bending down and grabbing her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“No one will help you. It’s just you and me. The sooner you submit to me, the less I will have to hurt you.”

He could see the fear in her eyes, she was sure of that. Hermione couldn’t think of a clever thing to say, so she just stared at him, like a frightened deer.

“So let’s start our first session, shall we?”

He let go of her and stood up again, towering above the young girl.

“Right answer, you’ll get a reward. Wrong answer, you’ll get punished. Understood?”

She didn’t react. Hermione was torn between revolting or obeying, so she wouldn’t get hurt.

“UNDERSTOOD?”

His loud and stern voice made her flinch and instinctively she nodded. Her gave her a disapproving look.

“Who are you?”

“Hermione Granger.”, she whispered. Instantly she felt a sharp stinging sensation on her back and let out a small squeak.

“Wrong, who are you.”

His voice was cold. And as she looked up at him she saw him holding a whip made of magic. It blue and translucent, giving of a small glow.

“Hermione Granger.”

The whip crashed down again, harder than the last time. Her heart was racing like crazy.

“Wrong again. Who are you.”

She tried to hold back her tears. There was nothing she could do to fight back. Unlike him, she was unable to use wandless magic. It was a high art and attempted without a teacher it could backfire horribly. But she would not change who she was and so she kept repeating her name, eyes closed trying to tense her body so it wouldn’t hurt as much.

Quite some time had passed. Hermiones back was burning and she could feel blood running down. She was crying and sniveling, curled up on the floor in so much pain, she felt as if she were about to throw up. She couldn’t remember how many times he had hit her. At some point she had stopped replying altogether but that hadn’t kept him from whipping her.

She felt a hand, gently caressing her face. Hesitantly she opened her eyes, looking at Dolohov who was kneeling beside her.

“Shhh, don’t cry, little girl. You know you made me do this to you, don’t you? This is your fault, but don’t worry you can make it right again. You know what you have to say, hmm?”

His soft voice almost turned her head, lulling her to false safety. His touch had disgusted her but now it felt comforting. It distracted her from the pain, almost making her forget he had been the one to cause it.

_Don’t trust him._

She couldn’t handle more of that. But giving in to him felt so wrong. He was her captor, her torturer, her rapist, her enemy. She just wanted him to stop. And she would know in her head, that he wasn’t right. She would know who she was.

“Who are you?”, he whispered softly, still caressing her cheeks.

“M-...mud..blood”, her voice was silent, almost inaudible.

“A little louder, my dear. I can’t hear you.”

“Mudblood.”

Dolohov smiled. But he still wasn’t satisfied.

“You know how to speak in sentences though, do you?”

Hermione let out a small whimper, a tear rolling over her eye.

“I am… a.. Mudblood.” Her voice was shaking and she wanted to hide her face in embarrassment, but Dolohov grabbed her face.

“Look at me. I want you to look at me and repeat yourself. I want you to really understand what you learned today.”

Her eyes slowly traveled up to his. Those cold grey eyes looked deep into her soul. She knew she couldn’t take it back anymore, so she took a deep breath, while her tears kept falling down.

“I am a Mudblood.”

Dolohovs eyes lit up und she broke eye contact and looked down again. Then she felt him pet her head, as if she were a dog.

“Very good, Mudblood. I’ll let you rest for the time being. Oh, and of course, you get a small reward for being such a good student.” His voice was mocking her and he stood up again.

Hermione flinched as she felt rough linen magically wrap around her body. She was now wearing a brown, loosely fitted dress and it almost made her grateful, not having to be naked anymore. The wounds on her back hurt even more, now that fabric was on top of it, but she hardly cared.

The chain, that bound her hands to the ring on the floor suddenly grew longer, allowing her to move more freely.

Meanwhile Dolohov had turned around and walked to the door.

“We’ll continue your training soon, little girl.” He gave her a dirty smile and winked at her, before leaving the room. As he shut the door, the dungeon turned pitch black again.

Hermione felt dazed out, unable to understand what had happened to her. She was still lying on the cold floor, shivering from the cold, the fear and the exhaustion. Her back felt like all her skin had been whipped off, each tiny movement made her whimper in pain, even her breathing was shallow. She wanted to just lay down on her bed, to get at least slightly warmer, but she was too scared to move, to face the full extent of the pain. So, she just lay there, tears drying on her face, hoping the cold would numb her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Sorry for the long wait but I took a break over the holidays. I hope you had a lovely Christmas and new year. Hermione didn't lol
> 
> Anyway, we're just getting started with this story! I have so many ideas.
> 
> I am still looking for a Beta reader, in case anyone's interested!
> 
> Also, if you can now contact me on tumblr( princess-of-whump)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This is the first time I wrote down and published one of my stories.  
> I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter.  
> If you want you can leave a review or message me, I always reply :)


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